Chapter 11 - Leah's Last Letter
Daniel had kept Leah's belongings in the upstairs study for a year. Some nights, grief kept him from opening a drawer. He had trusted his mother to handle the practical things while he barely managed to get dressed for work.
Now he searched those drawers, not for comfort, but for evidence.
At the bottom of a folder he found an envelope addressed to him in Leah's handwriting. It was dated six weeks before her car accident.
Daniel unfolded the letter at his desk.
Your mother keeps asking to be added to Sophie's trust. I know she loves Sophie, but she doesn't understand that this is our daughter's future, not a family emergency fund. Please don't sign anything when you're tired. We need to talk together.
He read it three times. Leah had been worried. He had not known, because the letter was never mailed. It was tucked among papers Patricia had once offered to organize.
Daniel called Katherine Bell, the co-trustee.
“I asked your mother to stop contacting the investment manager,” Katherine said. “She wanted early access to funds for a real-estate project. Leah refused.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I did. In writing. Your office acknowledged it.”
Daniel checked the correspondence log. The acknowledgement had been sent from an assistant's email account Patricia supervised.
Downstairs, Sophie sat with her crayons. Daniel crouched beside her and held out a clean sheet of paper.
“Can I draw with you?”
Sophie nodded, then asked a question that made his throat close.
“Daddy, if Grandma gets mad again, will you hit Emily again?”
“No,” he answered. “I was wrong. I am getting help so I never do that again.”
She studied him for a long time. Then she pushed a blue crayon into his hand.
May you like
His phone rang. It was Tessa.
“Patricia's attorney just asked the court to remove you from the house before tomorrow's hearing,” she said. “And the request includes an affidavit from Owen.”
